


How many secrets can you keep?

by QueenBoo



Series: Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time [1]
Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: I mean in context of the series they switch but for this piece, I'm getting out of the tags, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Noel is very much the dom here, Praise Kink, Sub Julian, because reasons, big sorry, dom Noel, exhibition kink, it's all about the sexual trust fall you guys, kinks being used as an expression of trust, this started as a crack piece and the spiralled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoo/pseuds/QueenBoo
Summary: Noel has exhibitionist tendencies. Julian is his long-suffering partner who indulges him; right up until he starts to find he enjoys it just as much.
Relationships: Julian Barratt/Noel Fielding
Series: Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137713
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	How many secrets can you keep?

**Author's Note:**

> This started as your typical 5+1 crack smut-fic with the simple premise of 'Noel gets off on being cheeky in public places and Julian's along for the ride' (Inspired of course by late-night conversations with my fabulous Boosh-wife @Silentorator) but as I went on I found that I was really interested in exploring it in a bit more depth, and thus this whole piece morphed and a series was born. 
> 
> So welcome to the first instalment of a series exploring how Noelian uses kink to express their trust, respect, and devotion to each other.
> 
> Obviously, this is all just a product of my sordid brain, (probably) completely made up.

_1\. At a table reading_

Noel manages to be a walking contradiction in many ways, but especially so in his ability to surprise Julian without _actually_ surprising him at all. 

For example, it probably shouldn't shock Julian how much time Noel takes to groom himself into a work of art every day; not when Julian has been around almost 8 years watching the process happen. But it does, it still takes his breath away whether it's as simple as watching the younger man straighten his hair in the soft morning light or observing him delicately applying eyeliner before they go on stage. 

What _should_ surprise him is his partner's (comedy or otherwise) supernatural ability to be perpetually gagging for it. 

But it doesn't. 

Noel is manufactured with pure energy. He is flashes of light and snippets of sound rolled into the vague shape of a person. When he has nowhere to channel that energy, he finds ways to channel it. Usually, the younger man is so busy that he gets by just fine. He will talk a mile a minute about ideas for their scripts, he will paint or draw the things living inside his head (an act that oft reminds Julian of an exorcism, like something is trying to claw its way out of Noel's subconscious) or failing any of that he can be found dancing around to Bowie or ABBA trying to expel his energy that way. 

Any of the aforementioned options being off the table? Noel finds other ways; Julian. Julian is the other way. 

Julian can relate in that he is also always low-level horny, but he does not feel the need to act on it nearly as frequently. It's a motivation problem for Julian. Meaning the urge is there, but he uses it to drive himself into completing important tasks. A reward system if you like. Any of his motivation for things like making 'important' phone calls or meeting script deadlines comes from the thought of what he gets to do when those obligations are done with. Noel, on the other hand, is useless unless his excess energy is dealt with. Noel won't, often physically can't, focus on set tasks while he was overdosing on his own trapped energy. 

All too often Noel finds himself without anything to hold his attention; paint drying on the canvas before a new layer can be added, Julian busy with his hands on his guitar and head lost among progressing chords, and he will take matters into his own hands--or his own mouth, so to speak. 

It really isn't Noel's fault either, he's just built differently. 

And don't get him wrong, Julian has no problem with their frequent and energetic sex life. Who knew at his mid-thirties he'd still be getting it this often and this mind-blowing. But sometimes he has things to do.

Like today. 

It becomes obvious Noel is bored before they have even gotten to the second page of dialogue. Fielding might be appearing in this episode, but his lines consist of comical monkey sounds and that's about it. Even Julian, who has actual lines, is only present for one scene. It's not imperative that they attended, but they're here anyway because Matthew and Richard operate in much the same fashion as Noel and Julian; they liked to get their mates in and bounce ideas around a bit.

Even if their parts were small they were welcome at this informal table read because truthfully half of the show was going to be formed from witty improvised banter. Normally Noel's bread and butter, but he has no lines. He tagged along today with an enthusiastic smile, cheering that he didn't have to do anything but watch Julian try to be funny (one of his favourite pastimes) and yet almost an hour in he is clearly regretting the decision. 

The scripts they'd been handed on arrival have suffered because of Noel's inability to remain stagnant. He has scribbled monsters in every margin, caricatures of Ayoade and Matt Berry next to their respective lines. Noel is even drawing himself as a strange human-ape hybrid as Matthew rambles on in character about subtext and writing devices. Unsurprisingly, as soon as it is Julian's turn to speak Noel sits forward; Noel plasters himself to Julian's side and stares down at _Julian's_ script like it has different and more interesting words than Noel's copy. 

It certainly shouldn't surprise him _at all_ that as he is mid-sentence, voice pitched low, hesitant fingers are creeping onto his thigh. At first, just resting there, they don't hinder him much as he struggles through lines with Matthew in his most apt priest voice. The whole time he can feel them, Noel's fingerprints threaten to burn right through the denim and leave permanent marks behind. 

It's a sign of the kind of day Julian is in for. 

The scene stumbles to a close and Richard (perhaps knowingly) suggests they take a break for fifteen minutes. Julian isn't sure fifteen minutes will be long enough, to be honest. Noel rises from his side and makes a point to bounce away in the direction of the bathrooms with an inviting smirk. 

It certainly wasn't _new,_ this interest Noel takes in risky groping. But this is the first time he's expected it to go anywhere other than just a grope.

Julian spends almost a minute staring in the direction of Noel's exit trying to decide what to do with this invitation. In the grand scheme of things, following him can certainly lead to happy endings all around. Noel might even concentrate for the rest of the day if Julian gives him what he's looking for. But they'd only ever _talked_ about indulging in semi-public 'activities'. Contrary to popular belief they didn't whip it out at every opportunity regardless of who was around; Julian was a bit too body shy for that at present. But Noel had brought it up and he'd been willing to consider it--it certainly isn't the weirdest thing they had ever discussed... or tried. 

Fuck it. 

Rising to his feet, Julian starts to follow his departed other-half. Before he can get anywhere though, Alice catches him with questions about Boosh and Julian is loathe to miss an opportunity to humble-brag among his friends. Besides, it would be rude to dismiss her just so he can go and get his rocks off. 

Ten minutes fly over and Noel re-enters the room in such a fashion that he needn't say anything to indicate to Julian that he's fucked up. 

Noel shows him. 

Julian's half leant over a table, palms pressed to the surface and his body tilted forward, he spares Noel only a quick apologetic glance before the discussion about punchlines and set design recaptures his attention. 

The younger man struts right up to the conversation, cooing greetings to Alice and unashamedly drapes himself all over Julian's reclining form. Nothing unusual; no one here is a stranger to them, they all know Noel craves contact like an addict craves a fix. Alice doesn't bat an eye while Noel presses his chest to Julian's back and winds his arms around his waist. There's not even a pause in conversation--everything carries on as normal. 

They're joking about subtext, about the subtle vs the obvious. Noel says, "I've never been that good at subtly," exactly as he rests his weight a little further forward and presses his hips directly into Julian's arse. Ironically, it's the most subtle he has ever been in matters of telling Julian what he's done wrong. 

It's a punishment. It's a _look at what you could have been doing for the past ten minutes instead of talking about set design with our friends._

Julian's _this close_ to claiming he needs to go out for a cigarette and offering one to Noel as well. The man doesn't smoke (unless it's socially) but he will accept if it means Julian can hold him against an alley wall and make him see stars. 

There's no time though, whatever brief break had been agreed on was over. Their anally retentive friend Ayoade was asking to go over some bullshit or other, and Julian was internally reciting prayers hoping he would be gifted the patience to deal with an irritatingly smug Noel for the rest of this reading session. 

As soon as they're settled and ready to go from the top, Noel finds a scrap bit of paper to scribble onto. He slides it across the desk into Julian's eye line. 

It reads; _naughty boy._

Julian thanks god Noel is blessed with the ability to blind him of his self-consciousness; he fears that sleeping with an Exhibitionist might just wear on the soul. 

_2\. A dark corner of a party_

Both Noel and Julian have very loose definitions of the word 'party', and yet, definitions that don't quite see eye to eye. 

To Noel, anything more than two people, some booze, and a decent soundtrack, is a party. Julian believes it needed to be more than five and you _could_ have a party without booze if you wanted to (thought you needed to be more morally sound characters than either of the Boosh boys were) it's just that they rarely wanted to. 

Regardless, this event they find themselves invited to was definitely a party. They could agree on that much. 

A gathering of people they know, in both personal and professional capacities, who all have things that they want to get drunk over. Personally, at the top of Julian's list was the fact The Mighty Boosh season one had made it through its first season without crashing and burning. Second to that was the fact they were in negotiations for a second go, that they already had ideas ready to go. 

But this party isn't just theirs. Somewhere among the crowds, Chris Morris and Charlie Brooker will be explaining the plot to Nathan Barely to someone and enthusiastically breaking the (potentially horrific) news that Julian is to star. Julia Davis is trying not to be _too_ uncomfortable under the praise of yet another series of Nighty Night going to air. Coogan is uncorking champagne bottles over the continued success of shows his production company bring to fruition. 

2005 is a wonderful year for the comedic social circle Julian is a part of and of course that warrants a good old fashioned piss-up. 

Unfortunately, no matter how many people are here to schmooze them, Julian always feels out of place in situations like this. He isn't built for the attention like Noel is. He isn't equipped with the same social batteries that power Noel through hours upon hours of energetic chatting. After almost an hour he has lost track of his other half and swaps beer for whiskey. He is trying to pull himself around from the swell of anxiety in his stomach by hiding in a dark corner and pretending he's a man named Stephen who stacks the shelves at the local Aldi. 

He's thinking about being someone who has no business being at an event like this. 

Noel finds him soon after he mentally finished restocking the bread aisle; it's like he has a Julian radar and always knows exactly where he'll be. Noel's cheeks are flushed pink and he smells of sweet fruits because of all the cocktails he's no doubt been sipping; he bounces over with all the energy of the Duracell bunny and insinuates himself into Julian's space. 

"What you doing over here?" Noel asks; he doesn't have to raise his voice to be heard over the music either. Julian has been attuned to Noel's frequency long enough that any music would have to be turned up to be heard over Noel. 

"Hiding."

"Not a great hiding spot," Noel swallows the last of his drink in one movement and drops the glass on a nearby surface. He plants both hands on his hips and looks Julian from head to toe with barely concealed mirth. "in a room full of people." 

Julian ducks his head. "On the contrary, I find it best to hide in plain sight."

Noel snickers, steps right up into Julian's space, "It's impossible for you _not_ to be in plain sight, you bear of a man."

As Noel slides closer, Julian's natural reaction is, of course, to slip a hand around his waist. Noel responds by winding his spindly arms over Julain's shoulders and pitching his weight forward enough that he is hanging off of him. There Noel remains, simply beaming up at him as if he hung the moon. 

"What are you doing?" Julian inquires after almost five minutes of this behaviour. 

"Staying here with you?" 

"... Why?" 

"Because fun tends to hang around with you and no one else is entertaining enough for me," Noel says it as if Julian was sill for asking. His smile as sweet as honey and his words dripping like treacle. They're sticking to Julian's skin, soothing his bruised subconscious. "Come and dance with me." 

Julian snorts, “No,” 

The answer makes Noel pout with an intensity Julian associates with toddlers. “Why?” 

“Because I don’t think dancing is what you want to do.” An assertion that is only confirmed when Noel's azure gaze darkens considerably. Noel brushes his tongue over his top teeth, then catches it between his canines. That darkened gaze flits leisurely down Julian's body and he responds to eagerly; he shifts his posture, he lowers his gaze.

“That’s quite an imagination you’ve got on you,” Noel teases lowly. He drags his lower lip between his teeth until it’s pink and shining with his saliva. “Ever thought about writing?” 

For a moment, Julian considers not answering. That never ends well for him, though. “Sometimes," he mutters. "but it’s tricky, I’ve got this sidekick that distracts me.” 

“He sounds like a laugh,” Noel cocks his head to the side. “Is he sexy?” 

The easy thing to do would be to agree. It will at least guarantee him an orgasm. Problem was easy wasn’t Julian’s style; he looked at easy and took the difficult route on purpose. Music could have easily been a career path for him but he decided to pursue stand-up because it was something he couldn't do and he _liked_ that. 

So of course when Noel sidles up to him on evenings like these; when he's in a particular mood for a particular type of game, Julian never opts to go easy. It makes it a little more fun. 

"Sexy?" Julian makes a point to pretend he is thinking hard about this question. "No. He's less 'magicians assistant' and more... 'Dancing monkey'--" Noel fights very hard not to show how amusing he finds this whole situation "--he gets in my brainwaves and crashes his symbols together until I give him attention. Makes for a difficult writing environment." 

“Well,” Noel flashes that megawatt grin, his fingers smooth over the lapels of the jacket Julian had thrown on in an attempt to look marginally put together. “Bet he more than makes up for it in other ways.” 

“If you’re gagging for it Fielding, there are better ways to go about it than coming over here and talking us in circles.” 

Several things occur in response to Julian's snappish response. For one, Noel's pleased grin twists into a predatory smirk. It's the kind of expression sharks get when they scent blood in the water, Julian is sure. Noel steps back from his personal space and takes the tumbler that had been hanging loosely in Julian's grip, forgotten, ever since Noel had entered his space. Whatever traces of alcohol had been swirling around in the bottom of the glass, Noel swallows down without so much a flinch for how the Whiskey might burn. The glass is set aside, Noel turns on his heel, and he backs himself into Julian's waiting body. 

It's the first time in this whole interaction Julian is reminded they're definitely not alone, and he thinks Noel wanted it that way. Without Noel's face to look into, he can only peer out over the room, can only see their friends and colleagues chatting and laughing under the dim, flashing lights of the party. No one's looking at them, no one should be, they're off in their own little world in this dark corner. But Julian still swallows thickly, because this was the beginning of the end for him. 

"What are you doing?" Julian asks, out of sheer habit he wraps one hand over each of Noel's hips. He doesn't grip though, just rests his palms there as he waits for further command. 

Despite not being able to see Noel's face he can feel the smug rolling off him in waves. The younger man doesn't utter a word of explanation, instead, he opts to _demonstrate._

And demonstrate he does. 

Noel does circles extremely well, whether that be talking in them, drawing in scribbling rotations, or moving his hips in them. It’s the latter that comes into play here. Noel rolls his hips backwards right into Julian’s crotch and a wave of lust crashes over him as his suspicions over what is happening are confirmed. 

_I'm Finding it Harder to be a Gentleman_ is playing loudly in the room and Julian could laugh how fitting it is as a soundtrack to their behaviour. 

Noel's hips circle once more and Julian doesn't know if he wants to drop his head back against the wall or forward into Noel’s hair. He ends up doing neither. Rather, he grasps at his hips and tries to encourage him to do it again. That's not how it works though. Noel has, and always will, be the one who holds the reigns in this particular game. It's his to control. 

And so is Julian. 

The teasing bastard waits long enough for Julian to get the message and loosen his grip a fraction, and then he complies. Noel settles into a rhythm that matches the music blaring around them, and Julian thanks god it’s not only a loud room but a _dim_ one. With how Noel rests most of his weight against Julian's chest anyway, every slow roll presses harder against him. He's groaning helplessly, and despite the fact he knows there are at least 50 other people in the room who could at any second notice this behaviour (to be honest its a good chance some of them already _have_ noticed) it's hard to care when there's less blood in your head and more in your cock. 

"Let's go home," He pleads, drops his head forward enough that he can mutter the request directly into Noel's ear. 

The younger man only giggles. "What already? We only just got here, Ju." 

"So?" He's pushing his luck, and he knows it. "Is it not cool to leave your own party."

"Not if everyone knows we're leaving to shag."

"Noel half the people in the room expect us to be shagging the second we’re out of eye-line.” Julian points out, and Noel acknowledges his point with a torturously slow grind. “They probably think we write with our cocks.” 

And there's no response. Noel is looking out over the room as the track changes, the movement of his hips adapting to the new rhythm. Julian could have predicted losing this argument, but at least he had tried.

Noel spends another moment lost in the movement before he cranes his neck enough to peer up at Julian and announce. "We're staying here," A cautionary glance around the room again, a smirk twists Noel's features and he presses his perfect little arse back on to Julian’s half-hard cock with a little more insistence. “I wanna see if you can come like this.” 

Julian sucks in a sharp gasp, grinds himself forward, and the friction sends tingles up his spine. There’s heat pooling in his stomach. He’s starting to sweat. “Here?” he clarifies. 

The cheeky bitch nods his head and his eyes are sparkling with lust. Julian honestly don't know what worries him more, how close he is to agreeing already or how much Noel seems to want this. And don't get him wrong, over a year ago Noel had expressed interest in this as a concept (that being shagging in public places) and Julian had since then found himself subject to a lot of illicit meetings in toilets and dark alleyways... but this was a whole new ball-game. 

This was a room full of people who would only have to start seeking them out and would catch them in the act. 

It's terrifying. It's exciting. Julian's going dizzy with the thought of it and Noel is just there blinking at him with wide eyes waiting for an answer. 

“Just like dancing.” He says, Cheshire cat grin in place but underneath the _want,_ Noel looks gently concerned. “Like dancing but with an orgasm at the end.” 

“I--I don’t know if I--” 

“Try.” Noel pauses, angles his body a little more toward Julian to look up at him earnestly. Julian knows if he says no, Noel won’t make him. Noel likes the games, he likes the risk of getting off where people might catch them. But he’d never put Julian in a position where he felt truly uncomfortable. "I've got you, Ju, just try.” 

For all intents and purposes, Noel isn't just asking if Julian wants to get off in the middle of a party. He's asking if he trusts him.

And fuck, he does. 

Julian gives his consent by driving his hips forward with enough insistence that Noel whines in the back of his throat and curses under his breath. 

“You’re not gonna get anything out of this,” Julian points out, keeps his head dipped low and his nose tucked into Noel’s hair. “You just get off on telling me what to do.” 

“As if you don’t get off on it too.” Noel snaps, and Julian uses the large hands on his hips to pull him back into another slow grind for that. Noel reprimands him with muttered curses. 

They remain like that for some time. Julian alternating between slow grinds and more forceful drags of his hips. Noel works in a complementary rhythm; it’s almost certainly long enough that he’s sure someone has started looking for them. Somehow the thought that their collective absence (or lack thereof) might get noticed soon drives him a little closer to the edge but it’s still not quite enough. 

Eventually Julian finds himself grunting with frustration. 

“Noel--I can’t,” he hates how his voice cracks on a whine. 

“It’s okay, Ju,” Noel comforts instantly, turns his face enough that Julian can look into his eyes. “You don’t have to…” 

“I _want_ to,” If Julian was a braver man he’d kiss noel. But there’s a difference between some (hopefully) discreet grinding in the darkened corner of a party and full-on snogging a man he likes to at least _pretend_ he’s not fucking. Almost everyone certainly knew, subtly wasn’t their forte, but everyone knowing and everyone seeing were two entirely separate beasts. “I just need a little...” rather than explain it explicitly he reaches for one of Noel’s hands and drags it between his own arse and Julian’s crotch as a silent plea for help.

Noel grins up at him, one of the full grins that is all teeth and nods his head. Unlike Julian, he says 'fuck any kind of subtlety' and turns to face Julian fully once more. He doesn’t rock on his toes to kiss him, that would be a bit too much, but as Julian drops his hand to the small of Noels back he is rewarded by the heel of noels palm rubbing against his crotch. “Gotta be quick Ju, anyone could see you like this.” and as much as Julian doesn’t subscribe to the whole ‘getting off in public thing’ as much as Noel does the mere suggestion does wonders for driving him that much closer to the edge. 

“You close?” Noel grinds the heel of his hand harder and Julian shivers in response. 

“Mhm,” Julian has fistfuls of Noel’s shirt, it’s going to be creased to all hell. Noels other hand slips under Julian’s shirt-- _the opposite of subtlety Fielding_ \--and fingers at his nipple. 

“Come for me Julian,” Noel orders gently, just as he pinches at Julian’s nipple roughly. “Be a _good boy_.” 

_That_ isn’t fair, Julian drops his head back against the wall and curses the air around him blue. His hips jump forwards, he comes in his pants like he’s fifteen years old again and he’s done it in a room full of their close acquaintances. 

And he feels fucking fantastic. 

There's a beat. Long enough for Julian to remember what reality he belongs to. He catches his breath and levels his gaze to the rest of the party--it appears that no one is any the wiser about what has gone on. Which is just as well. Music still blares, laughter still echoes, glasses clink together and all in all, the world is still turning.

“That was so hot, Julian,” Noel praises enthusiastically.

“One day you’re gonna kill me.” He breathes. 

Noel snorts in amusement and does his best to wink sensually. “At least you’ll go out with a bang,” 

It’s around this moment it truly starts to set in what he's just done. More specifically, the discomfort starts to make itself known. “Ugh, I feel disgusting.” 

"You're not," despite the fact Noel has put some respectable distance between them again, he is still gazing at Julian with soft admiration. Like he is the most incredible thing he has ever laid his eyes on. That more than anything makes Julian flush. Noel winds one arm over his shoulders once more and rocks up onto his toes to press a kiss to his cheek--the kind most people expect from them. Both Noel and Julian kiss their friends, but _especially_ each other. “Can’t wait for you to get your own back on me.” 

“That I will. But for now, I’m leaving.” Julian turns his head enough to scope out the exits, already wondering how on earth he was going to take his leave with any kind of dignity now. 

But before he can make any move, Noel is tugging gently on his wrist. "Ju?" He seems almost, small. Shy. In comparison to the kind of personality that backs him into corners and calls him a good boy, this version of Noel is a whole other person. "It really was amazing, you did really well. Thank you... For letting me, I mean." 

Julian steps closer; this time he is the one to press a kiss to Noel's cheek. Something tells Julian he isn't the only one requiring a bit of reassurance. "You never steer me wrong, Noel." He speaks directly into Noel's ear, making sure that his words aren't lost to the drone of music. "I--I trust you. And I like it." 

It's hardly the most ideal place for any kind of aftercare. For comfort and contact, they usually crave after they do anything more elaborate than vanilla sex. Noel likes to cuddle, Julian likes to be talked to. They work it out, but the fact is they're in public and it's difficult. So Julian settles for that brief confession and delivers Noel's smaller hand a squeeze that promises more later. 

This time when he makes a move to leave Noel doesn’t stop him, he just beams at him knowingly. “I’ll follow later.” 

“You better.” 

_3\. During press_

In the grand scheme of things, getting off in a club is tame compared to things Noel can and will do when he gets in the mood. 

Which is a realisation that slaps Julian in the face during their press run for the second season. They’ve got back to back interviews kicking off (literally, it’s soccer am) at six in the morning and going right through to the evening radio appearances. Their car collects Noel first, and Julian slinks into the back shortly after with his sunglasses on and barely-there memories from the night before. Dave’s got his camera out and Julian makes jokes about not being able to stand up last night because of how drunk he was. 

Noel is full of cold. He is hungover; they make the perfect pair for their interviews today.

They both sleep on their way to the first obligation. 

Thankfully, the universe must take some small mercy on them both. The morning flies over. Julian wakes up properly after a Berroca or two, Noel is chugging Beechams like its champagne, and it looks like they’ll make they’re way through without a hitch. 

Right up until they settle on the opposite side of the desk to a Radio 4 presenter with much more pep than any clue who they are.

Julian has to wonder why they put so much effort into self-promotion. What happened to the days of running around North London and whacking some posters up and praying that people took enough notice to actually turn up and see what they did. It seems the Boosh have collectively decided this interview, in particular, will be a waste of their time; Dave hasn't even bothered to follow them into the booth with his camera. Noel surveys the room as they enter and then beams at Julian like he knows something, and it makes Julian's stomach tie in knots. 

At least this segment promised to be short and sweet. Half an hour of them talking about the show and then pissing off for some dinner before their last few obligations of the day. Everyone involved, including Noel and Julian, knew the kind people who listened to BBC Radio 4 were nowhere _close_ to the Boosh's target audience. They may as well be shooting blanks in the dark trying to reach an audience like that. 

They get five minutes into chatting when Noel slips his hand onto Julian’s thigh and it’s lucky he isn’t talking because he nearly knees the table with his shock. It’s not like he is doing anything, either. Simply settles his palm on this thigh underneath the table. With Dave not joining them, and the host on the opposite side separated by computer screens and mixing desks, Noel seems to have decided this interview is the perfect place to push Julian's buttons.

It's a little further over the line than the younger man has ever dared go before. 

“Isn’t that right, Ju?” 

Julian has no idea what he’s just said but he’s forced to stutter over some kind of response about their writing process while Noel’s fingers make a featherlight journey up his inseam. As Julian talks, nails scratch on the denim of his jeans in a way that can’t be missed. Julian trails off by clearing his throat and Noel picks up as if he isn’t the biggest tease on the planet. 

They have five minutes left in this interview, not long at all. Julian is staring at the clock and wishing it away. Thank god for BBC Radio 4 and their recognition that no one in their audience base is going to give a shit about Noel and Julian and their funny little show. At least BBC London had made sense, even, at a push, BBC radio 2. Why the fuck they were here, he had no idea--but it means Noel has decided it’s the perfect place to act out because the second the preppy little presenter starts wrapping up their segment those teasing fingers drag very firmly over his crotch just once and then he’s removing his hand altogether. 

They rise, say goodbye to the presenter, very fitting that they’re played out by Zappa and _Dirty Love_. 

Julian lets them get out of the building at least, the car is parked around the corner, so no one is going to pay any mind if they take a little detour. He pulls Noel roughly by the wrist off to the side and hisses. “What the fuck was that.” 

Noel's first instinct is to deny. “I don't know what you mean.” 

“Don't be a brat, Fielding.” Julian snaps. "Of all the places to get handsy did it have to be in a bloody interview." 

Something in Noel's demeanour changes. He hardens. He plants his feet. He rolls his shoulders and sets his whole posture into something distinctly more _firm_. Julian realises at once he's miscalculated the motivation behind the action. Instead of his initial approach, to scold, he adapts to what he now thinks Noel was looking for. The tension leaves his own shoulders and he averts his eyes to the left rather than making direct eye contact. 

When he asks again it isn't an agitated demand but a curious plea instead, "Why there, of _all_ places?" 

"Because I wanted to." Which isn't even close to an answer, Julian makes pointed eye contact once more. He arches one eyebrow in silent query and sure enough Noel cracks. "I know you think I enjoy them--the interviews--and I do. But one after the other... Sometimes feels like we ain't people anymore just products. I'm so busy trying to get everyone to like us--" and Julian doesn't miss the 'us' because it's true. Not like Julian makes any effort of his own to sell himself, that has always been Noel's job. "--that I need to remind myself of some things. Tha's all." 

As explanations go it's not the most comprehensive, but it gets the point across. Noel is the chatty one, that's his brand, but that doesn't mean he sometimes doesn't struggle too. Press runs were hard, especially when they pushed themselves to extremes like these. They share so much of themselves in interview after interview that it's hard to remember which parts of their lives are truly _theirs._

Noel's pretty bizarre way of insinuating his claim over Julian was to apparently grope him mid-interview. And as daft as it sounds... Julian gets it. No one else in the world gets to know that side of him--to control that side of him. It's all Noel's to have and provoke and command as he pleases. Julian lets Noel direct him because he likes to not have to be in control, it's comforting. And on the other side of the coin, Noel likes directing Julian because it helps him retain control when his constant energy works against him and convinces him he isn't capable of it, it's also comforting. 

The younger man might know how to pick his fucking moments, but it's a plea. 

"What do you need?" Julian inquires as gently as possible. 

Glancing about the half-empty street they are lingering on, Noel takes a moment to consider. He settles himself down with a handful of heaved deep breaths, and then calmly he replies, "Dinner. We're going for dinner before we have to be at fucking ITV.” 

Julian already knows where this is going, but he asks with a smirk, “And where might we be going for dinner?” 

“Somewhere with clean toilets.” Noel grins, loops his arm through Julians, and begins walking them towards Southbank. 

Julian, naturally, obeys. 

_4\. Signing_

This has and always will be Noel's game. The public thing. 

Julian will never judge a person for their 'interests', or at least, he actively tries not to. Certainly, there are some things he is personally into that some might find it a little difficult to get on board with. And he doesn't _hate_ the exhibitionism thing, but he isn't into enough to ever initiate. It's purely Noel's enjoyment that drives their public dalliances. This is almost certainly why the preferred configuration for said dalliances is that Noel is the one to do things to Julian. 

For one, Julian is more comfortable that way. If Noel is the driving force then all Julian has to do is play his role; meaning he followed the rules and didn't give away whatever Noel was doing to him in a toilet cubicle, under a table, in the bunk of a tour bus. Noel would push him as far as he could get away with, drive him to the limits and then a little bit further because he got off on flirting with those boundaries. It helped that in the process Julian got off having to control himself without the use of physical restraints. 

Though, those could be fun too. 

A lot of people might look at the pair of them and expect Julian to be the one that ‘topped’, but, well, when everything about your partnership from the writing to your fictional selves is an equal exchange of power... then why not your sex life too? After all, it takes all sorts to make a world. 

But, if Julian happens to like being pushed and then being praised for how well he handles it--who's going to punish him. Certainly not Noel. 

Julian has his own games, his own tastes (Noel can behave surprisingly well when he wants to) but he's never wanted to lay claim on this particular part of their sex life and so he simply never has. They’ve been fucking each other in plenty of imaginative (and sometimes nice, sweet, vanilla) ways since they met, being able to safely explore and indulge with each other without judgement is a perk of the connection.

It also means not a lot about sex with Noel can surprise him anymore, even sex out in the open. 

At least, nothing does until Noel turns the whole thing on its head. 

They settle side by side at the signing table in a stuffy WHSmiths in Newcastle. Julian has lost count of how many days into this tour they are, but with the release of the series 2 DVD coinciding it just makes sense for them to do a few signings while they're on their way; the fans certainly seem to want it. All five of them do their best to completely mask their exhaustion too, chatting happily with teary-eyed fans and signing so much their hands get cramp. No one gets left out, either. It takes hours, but eventually, the queues start to die down and the doors are locked behind the last weeping teenage girl. 

Rich stands up to stretch his legs, Mike joins him and they both disappear out the back for a cigarette. They can afford to just sit here for five or ten minutes, their tour manager and the shop manager is more than happy to drown them in praise over the success of the signing anyway; Noel is chatting animatedly with them while the rest of the boys wind down from so much social interaction. 

Personally Julian wants nothing more than to disappear to the pub for an hour or two before they have to bundle onto the bus and head for Lancashire. 

Julian’s gagging for a cigarette but he's trying to cut back so he is resigned to silently listening in to Noel's conversation about fan-interaction. Dave is sat on his phone on the other side of Fielding, zoned out as he types on the keypad. Julian focuses on his other half (people are used to him not talking anyway, especially not after an extended period of something as draining as a signing) observing him where he is sat forward on the table. Noel has one elbow on the surface, head propped on one hand while the other is somewhere under the table. Probably fiddling with a pen in his lap, plucking at his belt loops, plucking at the fabric of his jeans. Noel fidgets. 

Julian is mirroring the position, as he is wont to do any time he is within five feet of Noel. One elbow on the table, his weight slumped forward on it, and his other resting idly in his own lap. 

Once Mike and Rich reappear they can go, but there’s no use standing now, even after sitting for hours Julian is still drained. 

Then, under the table, Julian feels Noel’s hand seek out his. Tentative fingers brush against the back of his hand and then slide carefully in between his. Linking them and pressing their palms together. Julian smiles to himself, watches Noel’s face as he continues to chat with other people as if he isn’t giving Julian’s hand a supportive squeeze. The only real hint that anything is going on--that only Julian would be able to pick out, is the softness to his eyes. Despite the fact he's looking at the blonde shop manager, they're creased at the edges with a kind of joy Julian (perhaps arrogantly) associates with himself.

The softness of the interaction lasts all of thirty seconds because then Noel is dragging Julian's hand into Noel’s lap and he suddenly has a sickening sense of where this is going.

With one hand, Noel plants Julian's palm on his crotch presses there for a moment, a silent order, and then retracts his own hand. Noel splays both palms on the surface of the table like he's trying to obviously inform everyone around them that _he_ certainly isn't up to anything untoward, and asks the shop manager a cheek question about DVD sales. Dave chimes in some half hearted comment and they all share a giggle but Julian feels like he’s drowning. 

He’s _never_ been the one to… to do anything. That wasn’t his job, it wasn’t his role when they did things like this. 

To be quite honest, he doesn’t know where to go from here. There isn't much going on in his head but the extended siren of panic. There's not a chance in hell he would ever be confident enough to try and get Noel off like this; for one it would be pretty bloody obvious if he did. Already he's sure if one person paid enough mind they'd notice his arm is bent toward's Noel suspiciously. For two, _he doesn't do things like this._ What ends up happening is that he sits there for the next five minutes just cupping Noel's dick through his jeans while they chat about the tour. 

Even if he wanted to, he can’t pull away, because Noel has made a command without words and that’s not how this goes. So he obeys. 

Mike and Rich's voices (mostly Rich) signal their return; Noel's hand dips below the table to squeeze Julian's wrist and then subtly move him away so that he can rise to his feet and make a show of stretching his arms above his head. Normally Julian would take the opportunity to ogle the flash of pale skin that is exposed as his t-shirt rides up, but he's frowning down at the surface of the table trying to piece together if he's potentially earned a reward or a punishment. 

Whatever Noel had wanted from him there, he isn't sure he accomplished it. 

“I’m bloody knackered, how ‘bout you Julian?” 

Startled, Julian whips his gaze up to find all eyes on him. “Oh uh, yeah. Dead on my feet.” 

“Yeah..." Noe gives him a smile that makes his stomach do somersaults. Not a punishment then. Somehow he'd done something right. Christ. "You look it.” 

"So you're not coming to the pub then?" Dave doesn't have to ask, of all of their friends he is perhaps the one with the most first-hand experience of what Noel and Julian get up to in their spare time. He still does though, likely more for show than anything. "Not like you to turn down a drink." 

“I never said I was turning it down," Noel snatches his hat from the table, tucks it on his head. Julian presses himself to his feet too. The sooner they make themselves scarce the sooner he gets an explanation. "Just want to nip back to the bus first, shower some of the fifty-odd hugs I gave today off of me.” 

“He’s got a point.” Julian chimes in, obediently. “We’ll catch you up.” 

The other three accept the excuse with a knowing smirk and head off without them. Julian waits patiently for Noel to pull on his jacket and ensure he isn't leaving anything behind. They both bid farewell to the shop manager, Noel's is a little on the flirtatious side but Julian isn't going to fight that battle when he has a war to win. The bus is at most a ten-minute walk from here, and they settle into a comfortable silence as they go. 

It isn't until the crowds around them thin and Noel can sidle a little closer that he gives in to his urge to mention it, “You did good, Julian,” the praise goes straight to the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t acknowledge it though. Noel continues with a knowing glint to his eyes. He lowers his voice further, “Such a good boy, don’t even have to tell you to stay and you did.” 

Julian's voice is hoarse as he replies, “You’ve never asked me to touch _you_ in public before.” 

“Wanted to see what you’d do,” Noel shrugs casually. “Besides, the other three people in the room might have noticed if _I_ started touching _you_... Did you--did you like it?”

It's the first time in a while Julian has heard Noel sound that uncertain, which perhaps convinces him that Noel wasn't trying to trip him up or intentionally make him feel out of his depth. It was more along the lines of leaping faith--improvising, after all, improvising was what they did best. That's where their wordless connection lay. Always seeming to know what came next without having to plan it. 

Sexual improvisation, who fucking knew. 

“I didn’t… dislike it.” Julian makes a point to look ahead rather than at Noel. "Wasn't entirely sure what I was expected to be doing, though. You can't have just wanted me to keep it warm." 

"Oh, I don't know," Noel giggles. "You have got warm hands. Like a lovely little cock mitten." 

Julian stops in his tracks and turns a disbelieving stare on Noel, and as much as he tries to pretend that isn't one of the funniest things he's ever heard, he's never been that good at concealing his amusement where Noel is concerned. "Please don't ever say those words to me again." 

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Ju." Noel teases.

"Sometimes I legitimately question every decision that led me to you." 

"And thank christ you made them, I bet." They pause outside the doors to the bus, Noel looks him from head to toe. "Next time I'll be clearer in what I want, then." 

Julian agrees to these terms with a smirk and a nod. 

"Come on then," With a flourish, Noel swings the door to the tour bus open and indicated with a jab of his head for Julian to enter. "Good boys get treats.” 

_5\. Lift in a hotel_

They stumble back to the hotel just after 2 am, which in and of itself is a disgrace. This might be Manchester (and as it's a stone's throw from Leeds Julian is more than happy to tell you how good they all are at drinking here) but they’re staying in the Crowne Plaza. It happens to be a bit of a fancy establishment. One of those tall and all made of glass buildings in the city centre that makes Julian dizzy to look up at. 

It’s just the two of them as they hurry through the lobby. The receptionist smirks at them knowingly but they pay her no mind. Others went to bed hours ago so they’re free to be a bit more cheeky than they might in the presence of polite company. 

They take full advantage of this fact. 

When they slam into the lift it is with all the force of a slightly tipsy hurricane. Noel places one hand in the centre of Julian's chest and urges him on until his back hits one of the cool metal walls. When he is happy Julian will follow the silent order ( _stay_ ) he turns on his heel to hit the button for the top floor. Floor 30. 

"We're on the third floor," Julian reminds, but he only gets a twisted grin for his efforts. 

It's his predatory smile. The one that makes Julian drop his shoulders and soften his posture. Everything about tomorrow's performance flies out of his head. Every worry about ticket sales, about script deadlines, about budgets and signings and that joke that _just wouldn't land._ It's gone. The only thing left behind is the tickling adrenaline that comes with knowing they're about to do something incredibly risky, and that he doesn't have to do anything but what Noel asks of him. 

The doors to the lift slide closed and Noel steps into his space, chest to chest with him. He angles those pointed features up towards Julian's, close enough that they're sharing breath but not kissing. “We're going all the way to the top and then back down again.” 

“Why?” Stupid question. 

Noel decides not to answer verbally and instead pops the button on Julian’s jeans with practised fingers and dips his hands under his boxers to fish out his cock. Julian's already half-hard (neither of them are going to waste a second of their limited time apparently) and he flushes pink when Noel glances down between them with wide hungry eyes. 

“What if we stop on another floor?” He says (begs?) desperately. Noel only grins wider. 

“Pray we don’t,” Noel spits into his palm and slicks Julian's cock with a firm grip. They don't have time for elaborate tricks, but Noel has always had a talent for taking run of the mill and making it beautiful. Noel twists his wrist on every other upstroke, thumbs at the head. He teases with slow, firm, pulls and then jerks his wrist with dizzying speed--rinse and repeat. “Look at me Julian.” 

Without a second thought, Julian obeys. 

The whole journey to the top takes two, maybe three, minutes. It's a shamefully short time but Noel's dominance, the eye contact, the alcohol, all of it combined has an intoxicating effect on him. Literally and metaphorically. He's much, much closer to the edge than he'd like. They reach the top floor, the lift dings and the door starts to slide open, Julian flinches but thankfully there is no one there. Understandable, it is ridiculously early in the morning after all. 

Still, while the doors remain open, Noel steps away long enough to hit the button for the third floor and Julian moves to tuck himself back in. 

“Did I say I was finished with you?” 

Pausing with his hands over his crotch, Julian shakes his head. “No.” 

“Then leave him out please, Ju," And as much as he wants to quip back about the use of 'him', he doesn't get the chance. "I think I want a show the rest of the way down.” 

And Noel jerking him off in a lift was one thing, at least if they did stop unexpectedly on another floor, Noel could use his body as a makeshift shield while they tried to hide exactly what they were doing. 

But now, Noel settles on the opposite side of the lift; reclines against the metal wall and folds his arms over his chest. Julian isn't sure whether to be turned on or afraid of the look he's getting. It's out and out possession. Noel is looking at every little bit of him, _every_ bit, like he is trying to find places he hasn't left his fingerprints so he can correct that mistake sharpish. Like he won't be happy until every inch of Julian is marked as property of Fielding. 

What wins out is Julian's anxiety. “Noel,” 

“Shush I’m appreciating my view.” Noel scolds; Julian drops his gaze to the floor and breathes deeply. It's not what Noel wants, unfortunately. “Look at me, touch yourself.” 

It takes all his resolve to follow that order knowing he would literally be caught with his pants around his ankles if this lift stopped. 

“Noel this is…” His voice cracks, Noel looses some of the intensity in his gaze. 

“If you want to stop you know how.” 

As much as it terrifies him, he doesn’t want to stop he’s just… getting over that last hurdle takes a moment. Even Noel understands that; God knows their positions have been reversed before. 

“Show me what a good boy you are, Ju,” Noel whispers. They haven't got may floors left. They both know a proper show isn’t possible but it’s not about the show at all, it’s about the principle of the thing. It’s about Noel proving he owns _this_ part of Julian. This part that no one else has a hope of owning. “I’ve got you.” 

With determination Julian wraps his hand around his own cock and gives one firms stroke but that’s all he manages because Noel steps back into his space and crashes their mouths together, panting excited moans into Julains mouth like he just did the most erotic thing possible. In the meantime he tucks Julian back into his trousers just in time for the lift to stop at their floor and Noel steps back enough to guide Julian from the lift and towards their room. 

The second they're secluded safely in Noel's room (not Julian's, his is three doors down) he's on him again; peppering kisses across his cheeks and undoing the buttons of his shirt. “You’re so perfect for me.” Noel praises and backs him towards the fluffy mattress. 

Julian drops heavily to the edge of the bed and Noel falls to his knees with all the eagerness of someone excited to reward good behaviour.

He doesn't need to hear the words 'good boy' to know that's what he is.

_+1 Julian initiates - Backstage_

It’s their last night on stage. The DVD is being filmed too so they agree to go all out on the old Gregg kiss. 

Julian gets a handful of arse and they add a (mostly) fake moan or two, they linger a little longer than is strictly necessary. That part is all planned. 

What's not planned is that Julian, once the final bows are all said and done, gets a very persistent and specific urge. One he's not used to getting. It's exactly what leads him to follow Noel into the large bathroom in their shared dressing room. All five of them share the space, and after this particular show in this particular venue, Paul King is lounging on their sofa as costumes are shed and makeup wipes are passed back and forth. 

Dave is taking up one mirror with his intricate removal of his blackened eyes. Another mirror is being cleaned because Rich (and Noel) had made an absolute mess of it during the interval with shaving cream, sharpies, and tissues. Which means that to wipe his face clean, Noel is going to have to use the built-in bathroom/shower room. 

The younger man slips in with his mirrorball suit around his waist; Julian spots the opportunity and while Dave cleans his own face and Rich is distracted and Mike is busy on his phone, he follows him in. 

The door is clicked shut behind him and Noel, smudged makeup, makes eye contact with him in the mirror. 

“Ju?” With a finger pressed to his lips, he locks the door. Noel’s eyes glint with recognition and he turns to press his back against the porcelain of the sink. “Everyone’s just outside Ju, and we won’t have long.” 

Julian couldn't frankly care less about either of those things.

He’s never asked for this before, and it’s clear Noel is expecting something _completely_ different to come from this interaction. Maybe one of Julian’s games. He has plenty of his own, he likes to get creative with how he traps Noel into his role--not with words but with clothes, scarves, a mirror ball suit pushed round noels thighs and wrists in one big hand. 

Noel looks hungry to play brat, comebacks and sarcasm are poised on his tongue except... Julian takes a step into the room and settles (ungracefully; how does Noel always make this look so sexy?) onto his knees in front of his younger half and it becomes clear that Julian isn’t here to take control but to _offer_ it. 

Noel’s jaw drops. “You sure?” 

Not entirely, but he nods his head anyway. 

Noel grins at him. “You're incredible.” He breathes as if in awe, and then he steps close enough to peer down at him. “Best get to work then, Barratt. Good boys don’t make me wait.”

In the beginning, the public thing wasn't something he wholly understood, it was Noel's game. But lately, he might be starting to understand the appeal. 


End file.
